


A Pocket Full of Trouble

by Snooky



Category: Hogan's Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 05:29:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20058790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snooky/pseuds/Snooky
Summary: For the SSSW challenge. Substitute Kommandant, Oberst Werner, decides to keep the prisoners on their toes by conducting a surprise inspection. How will he react when he finds a certain type of contraband? An additional scene from my story, "The Substitute."





	A Pocket Full of Trouble

_A Pocket Full of Trouble_

_A missing scene from my story, "The Substitute."_

_Thank you, Abracadebra for your proofreading and editing work. And for the historical context._

Things seemed to be going smoothly, and Oberst Werner, sent by Berlin to run Stalag 13 while Klink was on medical leave, was pleased by his attempt to remake the camp. The Stalag was not in compliance with regulations, so on his orders, the prisoner area was separated from staff areas, nationalities were housed together, certain undesirables were separated from the rest of the population in a hut situated furthest from the prisoner facilities, and now, the barracks were being raised.

Despite the construction and disruption, routine—for Werner was a stickler for that—was followed. It was time for morning roll call and inspection. This morning, Werner had something up his sleeve. It was crucial to keep the enemy guessing and on their toes. So, the guards began rousing the prisoners an hour earlier than normal.

Hogan heard the banging and yelling coming through the door to his quarters. What the hell? Operations were on hold during this upheaval, but his stomach flipped just the same. Anything out of the ordinary could create a dangerous situation. He hopped down from his bunk and headed toward his door. He opened it and found the barracks in utter disarray.

The front door was open, and Hogan saw a chagrined Schultz standing there.

"Surprise roll call and inspection, Colonel Hogan." The sergeant shrugged his shoulders.

"Schultz. I used to think you're the best enemy a man ever had." In his hurry to get dressed, Foster was tangled in his pants. Carter caught him before he flopped over. "Guess I was mistaken." Foster pouted.

"It's not my fault," Schultz whined. "He's…" He stepped back. "You have two minutes to get outside."

Hogan nodded. "You heard him. You're all airmen. Remember your drills."

He returned to his quarters and with practice honed by years of military experience, surprise drills and months serving with the RAF, Hogan was dressed in seconds.

"I can't even see the floor!"

Shepard, a newer resident of the barracks who arrived when Werner ordered nationalities to bunk together, was a Wisconsin native and severely nearsighted. How he managed to end up on a plane was anyone's guess.

He remained frozen in terror, on his top bunk. Saunders was on the floor looking for Shepard's spectacles.

"Found them! They fell underneath the bottom." Saunders rose and handed them to the grateful sergeant.

"Out, out…" Hogan shepherded the entire crew outside. "No fooling around," he warned everyone as they got into line.

He stepped a few yards into the compound, quickly checking to see if the other barracks had fallen out properly. Satisfied, he stepped back into line to await Werner. The assembly was delayed as each prisoner was patted down. To add to the stress, Hogan learned that Werner and his two goons, accompanied by several of Stalag 13's guards, including Schultz, were now inspecting the inside of each hut.

_HhhhhH_

Residents of one of the British huts could see the pat-downs as they were lining up for roll call. These men were thrown together when nationalities were rehoused, and most of them came from other barracks. Newkirk was the de facto chief. When one of his new mates, a country lad from Cornwall, tapped him on the shoulder and whispered, "we have a problem," Newkirk swallowed hard and whispered quickly, "what is it?"

The man opened up his trouser pocket. Newkirk glanced in there. "Yes, that is going to be a problem, mate."

"I forgot they were there."

"Quick. Hide it in the barracks, and I mean hide it so even we can't find it."

"Righto." For some reason, the man saluted and took off.

"Halt! Where are you going, Leach?" It was their barracks guard, Obergefreiter Pfeiffer.

"I..I…"

"Something he ate, mate." Newkirk stepped in and stopped Pfeiffer. "Don't want trouble out 'ere, do you? He can't get to the latrines…Just let him go inside and take care of what ails him. No need to embarrass the lad."

Leach put on his best puppy dog eyes. That, combined with a bit of gagging and fake cramps, convinced the guard.

"Go on and be quick."

Two hours later, Hogan was summoned by word of mouth to one of the British barracks. Not surprisingly, this was Newkirk's new home. The colonel and the residents waited outside while the Kommandant, his aides, and a couple of guards rummaged around inside, performing their inspection.

"Anything in there I should know about, Newkirk?" Hogan demanded of his team member.

"I don't believe so, sir. Gents?"

The other residents murmured that there was nothing they could imagine would get them in serious trouble. But, Hogan saw the guilty look in their faces and did not believe them for one second. He leaned up against the outer wall, while the men milled around the front door.

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1," he murmured to Newkirk. Bingo. The door opened on cue, revealing a cleary angry Kommandant.

"May I see you inside, Colonel Hogan?"

Hogan grinned. "Absolutely, Kommandant. These men have nothing to hide," he said with more conviction than he felt.

"We found multiple infractions throughout the other barracks, Colonel," Werner stated. "However, I am inclined to overlook them. We smashed one radio, and confiscated several others in various stages of completion. I also discovered five sets of marked playing cards."

"Heck, who'd believe that, even in wartime?" Hogan knew some of these items were deliberately planted. Contraband was found in many camps, and it was a means to an end. Find one thing, and leave, neglecting to search for what could possibly get them all shot.

"That's all? Gambling is not allowed." Schultz, who had returned, chuckled. The Kommandant glared at him, and the sergeant stepped back towards the door.

Hogan shrugged. "It keeps them occupied. They gamble for cookies, cigarettes, you know, the usual."

"I'm not done. There is something we did not find. And that makes me quite suspicious," Werner said.

"What's that?" Hogan asked.

"Tunnels. Tools. Dirt."

"Our escape committee has been socked with the flu," Hogan explained. "Actually, Klink and Schultz here discovered the last set several weeks ago. They were filled in, and the tools were confiscated. I think it was over by Barracks 12, wasn't it Schultz?"

"What, Colonel? Oh, ja. Barracks 12. That's right, Oberst. The men were severely punished, with a, a…."

"Trip to the cooler."

"I didn't see the report, Sergeant," Werner said skeptically.

"You probably didn't look in the right place, Kommandant." Hogan studied his fingernails. "If you didn't know what you were looking for, you probably wouldn't find it? Isn't that right, Schultz?"

"Most definitely, Colonel Hogan. My wife, she used to hide..."

"Silence! I will conduct another search of Klink's files. And I will find that report and the men responsible."

Hogan was not concerned. Through his peripheral vision, he spotted a prisoner from another barracks striding toward Barracks 2. By the time Werner returned to Klink's office, the appropriate records would be on file. "Obviously, you didn't call me here to discuss the other prisoners' barracks and what you found, or didn't find," Hogan told Werner. "You were barely here five seconds." He glanced at Schultz. His eyes were closed and his lips were moving—praying, no doubt.

The common room of the hut was clean and tidy, and the mattresses were untouched. Hogan had to hand it to them—Werner and his aides knew their business. The first place inspectors normally checked were the mattresses and loose floorboards. However, wary prisoners knew this and had to find more ingenious places to hide contraband.

"Wolf. Show him what we found," Werner snapped at one of the guards who assisted the officers with their inspection. "We know prisoners inside and out. We know how you think, and where you hide your contraband."

Hogan's face fell. He stood up, ready to face whatever might happen with the discovery that two had made.

Schultz began to turn pale, as the guard approached with the illicit items.

"Where did you find these?" Hogan asked, trying hard not to laugh.

"Don't tell me you weren't aware of these? What do you think that I'm a fool?" Werner looked furious.

"Look, Kommandant. I'm trying to take care of and command over 900 men," Hogan said coolly. "All of them would rather be someplace else. I don't have time for to keep track of their hobbies and playthings," he said, gesturing at the objects the guard presented. "I'm not a babysitter."

Schultz opened one eye, as he realized that the Kommandant hadn't ordered an execution, nor had he discovered the tunnel entrance that Schultz was sure existed in this yet-to-be raised hut.

"Oh, Colonel Hogan. For shame." The sergeant wagged his finger and clucked. "That is not nice."

"A boyish prank. Just tell me where you found these, and I'll make sure it doesn't happen again," Hogan shrugged.

"That's not good enough, Colonel Hogan. I want whoever was responsible for this disgraceful behavior punished," the Kommandant replied.

"You know, they are rather good." Hogan studied the items further, turning them over in his hand. He winced as a pin hit his palm. "The Goering likeness is uncanny. Although Hitler's mustache is a tad too wide."

"Colonel Hogan!"

Hogan sat down stubbornly and looked up at the Kommandant, whose face was turning red in self-contained rage.

"Stand up! The oberst did not authorize you to take a seat."

"That's enough," Werner said to his aide. "This is a colonel. Show some respect."

That surprised the colonel. Hogan stored that strange bit of behavior from Werner in a part of his brain that would be revisited.

"Yes, sir. My apologies, Colonel Hogan. Please stand up, sir."

"You're a stickler for protocol, Oberst. That's nice to see."

"Just because there is a war on, doesn't mean we don't follow the rules. Although if I had my way, "he sighed. "Have the residents come in here."

"Schultz. Tell them to come in." Hogan said.

Schultz opened the door and the men filed in.

"I want to know who is responsible for this outrage. You thought these objects were hidden so well that we would never find them. But I know how you think," the Kommandant continue. "You can try, but you cannot trick me."

Hogan bristled internally but tried to keep his cool as he looked over to Newkirk, who mouthed, "not mine," and shrugged. The murmuring among the prisoners continued for a moment.

The Kommandant walked back and forth, eyeing all the prisoners, searching for the guilty face. "All of you will be severely punished if I don't find who is responsible."

"Can he do that sir?" Newkirk asked Hogan directly.

"Yes, but I think he is blowing this entire thing way out of proportion. Kommandant Klink would have been upset, but he would have let it go, eventually. He was more concerned with weapons, radios, and tunnels." Hogan looked at Werner.

"Yes, yes. But I'm not Kommandant Klink, am I? And I'm now in charge of this Stalag."

Hogan glanced at Newkirk and nodded. Newkirk gave him an imperceptible nod in return, and then stepped forward.

"Colonel Hogan?"

"Yes, Corporal Newkirk."

Newkirk looked down, shuffled, and improvised. "I did it. I was always handy. Learned about these from the cunning folk, I did. And I thought making a few of them would be good for morale. When I heard there was an inspection, I took them out of my foot locker, and hid them, sir. Obviously not well enough. I admit it. Please don't punish anyone else. And, Kommandant, Colonel Hogan had no idea about these."

"Newkirk." Hogan shook his head sadly, radiating disappointment. "Kommandant, he's had a top-notch record since he's been here."

Schultz coughed and choked back a laugh.

"His history is spotless, Sir. Just check his file," Hogan said with innocent eyes. "Can we forget this happened? He admitted he did wrong."

"No. Two days in the cooler," Werner ordered.

Hogan was surprised at the light sentence, and so he didn't mind if Newkirk landed in the cooler. The cogs and wheels were turning; now he might be able to send the corporal outside the wire if necessary.

"Yes, sir," Hogan replied. He refused to grovel, however, and thank the regulation-obsessed Kommandant for his leniency.

"Newkirk, with a spotless history," Schultz echoed. He rolled his eyes.

"Sergeant. Take this man to the cooler. Colonel Hogan, I want all men in this camp to hear about this incident and to be put on notice. The next man to commit an infraction will not be punished so lightly. Now I need to continue my inspection tour."

"Yes, sir." Hogan saluted. He watched the Kommandant and his aides leave. Schultz, meanwhile, took off with Newkirk.

"Take me to the cell that Group Captain Roberts was in, Schultz, will ya?" Newkirk asked.

"But that's an enclosed cell. Wouldn't one with bars be less claustrophobic?"

"Nah. I like the privacy. Don't worry about bringing me any food, either. I'm not too hungry," Newkirk was walking a bit faster than Schultz, who was huffing and puffing to keep up. "What's the matter, Schultz? Tired?" Newkirk stopped and waited for the sergeant to catch up.

"The new Kommandant is not like Kommandant Klink. We had a full inspection, and I had to follow him around the entire camp."

Newkirk shook his head in sympathy as they approached the cooler. "That's terrible. But you know," he said as he patted Schultz's stomach. "You could stand to walk a few more patrols."

"Sometimes I take a rest. And get your hand off my stomach. A healthy layer keeps me warm." Schultz chuckled as they entered the cooler. The temperature at this time of year wasn't too bad, as the weather was fairly mild. However, the building was always damp, and Newkirk could not control a shudder. He took a long, deep breath before Schultz closed the cell door.

"Newkirk?"

"Yeah, Schultz?"

"Please, no monkey business. It would mean my life. And yours as well," Schultz whispered.

Newkirk felt a pang of guilt, knowing that the German sergeant truly cared about the men under his charge. But he had a job to do, and he didn't wish to disappoint the colonel nor his contacts in town. "Someone will be here when you check." Newkirk smiled. Just probably not me, he thought, hoping the colonel would want him to go outside the wire.

Schultz, not eager for further explanation, grumbled as he locked the door. Newkirk took a quick look around the damp cell. A blanket and pillow were stacked on the cot while a bucket stood in the corner. He went over to the sink, and moved it aside. "Hey," he said as he looked through the tunnel spur.

"Here," Garlotti said as he began handing things through the tunnel. Newkirk laughed, as he grabbed an extra blanket, a bottle of wine, a mug, a thermos full of hot ersatz coffee, and a covered plate of something delectable LeBeau had cooked up. "That's it," Garlotti explained. "Sorry it's coffee and not tea. And we're bringing up a dummy just in case the colonel sends you out."

"Righto," Newkirk said. Yes, in this instance, getting into trouble for something he didn't do was not so bad.

_HhhhH_

As soon as the coast was clear in the barracks, Hogan turned to the group. He knew he had time to somehow to fix Newkirk's permanent record in the office, but first, he questioned the men in the hut.

"First of all, whatever prompted you to make voodoo dolls? And second, you all have to learn how to hide things properly." Hogan looked at his hand. Fortunately, there was no blood where he had been pricked.

"They were mine, sir," Leach confessed. "But in Cornwall where I come from, we don't call them voodoo. We call them poppets, you see? Like Newkirk said, the cunning folk make them. And I reckon I forgot they were in my trouser pocket. During roll call, I was able to run back in and hide them. I suppose the stove wasn't the right choice."

"Only if it was lit, Leach, only if it was lit."

_The End_


End file.
